Life, Six Weeks Later
by foodaddict
Summary: A girl leaves for a six-week excursion and ends up getting more than she paid for…
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer**: Erica and Ella are mine, everyone else…well…I _wish_ they were mine. :D

**Author's Note: **Hey everyone! Although this is a Slam Dunk fanfics, the Slam Dunk characters don't get into the story until Chapter 1. I just thought it was important for me to give a background of the new character before she enters the actual Slam Dunk backdrop because she's going to have a new standpoint after six weeks.  Hehe…please read and review. 

Prologue

"I don't see what you're so upset about. It's just a six-week exposure trip. I'll be back before you know it."

Erica leaned forward from where she sat on the soft, cushy mattress, pouting and giving her best friend her signature puppy-dog look.

"_Six weeks_?" she complained, sighing deeply. "What am I supposed to do in _six weeks_? That's practically the whole summer!"

"Take an art class!" Ella suggested exasperatedly, tossing a handful of her things into her suitcase. "Your mom should allow you _that_ much."

"Are you kidding me?" Erica laughed, the original bitterness that came when she discussed her mother long lost in the humor of her situation. "She'd tell me that an art class wouldn't elevate my work from the status of my prep-school stick drawings."

Ella laughed with her, though behind her best friend's infectious humor she saw through to the real cause of Erica's reasoning, and what she saw made her pause.

Erica was going to have to go through six weeks without the support system that she had depended on since their sophomore year. Communication was open via phone and mail and internet, but the solid assurance of her physical presence would be gone…and Ella knew how much that counted. Whenever she was around, Erica's antagonistic mother was much more livable. Not to mention that they'd be going out most of the summer so her mother would have a limited time to torture her.

She threw the last of her things in and slammed her suitcase shut, coming around to where Erica sat and sitting down next to her. She took Erica's long, tapered, artistic fingers and laced them with her own, her friend's frail white hand stark against her own honey coloring.

"I promise I'll call everyday," she said reassuringly. "It'll be like I was never gone."

"What will it be like when you get back from Japan?" Erica asked sadly. "You'll know so much more things than me by then."


	2. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **Same thing I said in the last chapter.

**Author's Note:** Now the real story begins. - Hehe…I just really felt the need for the prologue.

_simmic_: Thanks so much for the review! ;D Ella's the one going for an exposure trip during the summer and Erica's going to be left behind. I really emphasized on their relationship because Erica's going to be entering somewhere in the middle of the story (hehe… ;D ) and I sort of needed to make sure everyone knew who she was. Sorry about that. ;D I'll put more details on Ella in this chapter. Thankiesh! ;D

So here it is. Please read and review. -

Chapter 1

"Rukawa, you stupid fox, would you _hurry up_?"

Ryota exchanged a laughing glance with Ayako as he stepped out and joined her in the hallway outside the basketball team's locker room. Class had just finished and they were about to start the first practice of the season. Sunlight streamed into the hallway the same way it had less than a year before…though things were quite different now.

Now there was no tall, large figure dominating the hallway—no big, booming voice to fill the ears of the players and the passers-by. There was no slender, bespectacled young man next to the taller one, his presence asserted despite the strong, overshadowing presence of his two companions…the other of which was also missing on this particular day, his smirking face and bad-boy demeanor no longer causing people to pause either out of admiration or fear.

Instead, there now stood a pretty girl with dark curly hair and a young man only slightly taller than her, his earring flashing as the sunlight settled on it.

He paused, looking around the empty hallway and feeling a strange, indefinable pang in his chest.

"It sure is different with all of them gone," he said quietly, temporarily oblivious to the commotion in the locker room.

Ayako nodded in solemn agreement, understanding what he felt.

"Lots of things have changed," she said, identifying the feeling in the air as nostalgia. "I'm not sure if I should be glad or not."

"_I don't know why I bother to wait for you, you stupid jerk!_ Just how damn hard is it to put on a goddamn jersey and pull on your nasty shorts!"

"You know, you whining little turd, you can always go on without me. It's not like I can't walk without you."

Ryota grinned as the voices became louder and two tall sophomores came barging out of the door.

"Well," he commented to his girlfriend—who was also the team manager—"that's one thing I'm glad of."

Standing side by side the two players were something to look at. Almost shoulder to shoulder, they exited the locker room one after the other, arguing as they walked.

One was more muscular, his features stronger and rougher in comparison. He had dark eyes and a large mouth that's size was nothing compared to outpour of bragging that came out of it. There was a strange goodness stamped into his face though—an inner coating that shone through the shell of the physical and superficial.

The other was handsome by far, with striking blue eyes and features so fine and skin so fair that it was impossible not to look at him and temporarily be stunned. He had hair as black as the darkest night and against his fair skin his brows and long lashes stood out in beautiful contrast. He was cold however—as though the color of his skin went deeper than just his physical appearance.

But they balanced each other out, the two sophomores, as they began walking down the hallway, bickering as they went. Sakuragi was one of the few people that could actually goad Rukawa into replying—which he was at the moment, and quite enthusiastically as well. Colorful words flew between them, but there was something between them now that went deeper than just skin-deep jealousy and resentment.

They were friends now—though odd ones. They rivaled each other in the sport they both loved and though Sakuragi considered Rukawa a rival for a girl's heart as well, they were constant companions on court and off court. Though Rukawa still declined from joining Sakuragi's antics with his old crew they could be seen having one-on-one matches in public courts before going to school. There was a productive bond despite the things they said and did to each other, and as they both sought to outplay each other in basketball their dependency on each other grew.

"Come on, Ayako," Ryota urged, feeling his heart lighten at the sight of his two teammates. "We should get going as well."

"Of course," Ayako replied, falling immediately into step with him. "But remember, I have to go an hour earlier today. I've got to catch up with my English class."

"I still don't understand why you're taking an extra class. And is it even called a 'class'? You're already very good at English and besides, formal classes are already over at this time."

"It's part of the activities of the club sponsored by the English department of our school. If you're a member you get extra credit for each class you attend. I'm vying for honors this year and I'm planning to apply at Tokyo University. I've got to have _something_ that'll give me an edge."

"_Okay_, okay. I was just asking." He paused and frowned, turning to look at her. "But what happens to us if you get in?"

Ayako realized what he was feeling and gave him a reassuring smile. "You know me, Ryota. If there's one thing that I don't want to change, it's us."

"Are you feeling quite comfortable, dear?"

Ella looked up from her desk and smiled at the middle-aged Japanese lady who stood in front of her. She was a small woman with fine features and a very frail-looking figure, but she had a deep, soothing voice that sounded lovely in whichever language she chose to address Ella with.

"Yes, Miss Kawazaki," she replied to Miss Kawazaki's eloquent and proper English question in smooth Japanese. "Just a bit nervous."

It was a game they both loved playing since they had come to know each other in the previous week and Miss Kawazaki's brown eyes warmed with mirth.

"It'll be fine," she said reassuringly, reverting to her natural language. "You're a very charming girl and I'm confident you'll be able to relate with the students attending this class just as well as you do with your classmates from your regular class."

She left Ella on that note and walked to the front of the class just as more students began filing into the room. Ella shifted uncomfortably in her seat, sitting up straighter while trying to keep from breaking out into a sweat by breathing deeply. While it was true that she got along with her classmates in her 8-3 classes, they were all freshmen and because of their jitters they warmed up to each other quickly. This club provided a class for students of all year levels, and as proven by the confident, easy movements made by many of the people now taking their seats, she knew that she would very likely have to interact with people who were in other year levels.

"Settle down, everybody, settle down," Miss Kawazaki said in her beautifully intoned English, her voice filling the room and silencing the noise that came whenever there was a large gathering of people. There were about fifty people in the large lecture hall and she could identify the mixing and merging personalities everywhere. Contrary to what she expected, there weren't just bookworms or academicians in the room. She was certain she could see a group of rockers in one corner, one of them impossible to miss with his spiked, neon green hair.

_As they say in the Philippines_, she thought, smiling at his fashion statement even as a pang of homesickness tugging at her heart, '_Kanya-kanyang trip_.'

"I'd ask you all to introduce yourselves one by one," Miss Kawazaki continued, this time in Japanese, as all attention in the hall focused on her, "but we're pressed for time. We've got one hour to get through with our opening activities and then the formal classes will have to start in our next meeting. To start off, I'd like to welcome you to the English Club's Special Extra-Merit Classes. Here you're going to be developing your proficiency in the English language. Your improvement will not only reflect in terms of your performance in your regular English lessons but your own performance here will be considered as extra merit in your academics. Therefore I encourage you to use these classes for your maximum benefit. I'm the adviser of the English Club. My name is Maori Kawazaki and I'm very pleased to meet you."

An appreciative applause rippled through the crowd and Ella joined in enthusiastically, seeing that she was not the only one who found Miss Kawazaki to be more than likeable.

"I'd also like to introduce this year's English Club president. I have no doubt she is a familiar face, because she's also headed the Broadcast Club since last year. Ladies and gentlemen—Miss Mari."

Heads swiveled as a girl from the front row stood up and made her way to the stage. She was of average height and medium build, her fashionable blue-tinted hair cut into an efficient bob. She was pretty, but there was a sharp, determined look in her eyes that Ella wasn't certain if she liked.

Mari took the stage and gave Miss Kawazaki a polite nod before addressing the waiting congregation.

"Hello everyone," she said, her voice polite but measured, "I'm very pleased that all of you have decided to join the English Club. I will do my best as club president to promote our interests as a club and I hope you will do the same." She gave them all a polite smile and promptly flicked her palm out to observe the small sheet of paper in it. She cleared her throat before turning back to them.

"Today's agenda," she resumed, "is getting to know each other. As Miss Kawazaki said, however, we don't have the time to go through an introduction of all of us one by one. I doubt that you'd remember all fifty of your classmates here as well even if we were to do that. And so I've decided that the introduction should be by pair and then we can move on from that. For example, I would introduce myself to Miss Kawazaki and after we get to know each other a little better we would go over and introduce ourselves to another pair. I do encourage you to introduce yourselves to people you don't know and not stick to your friends. The whole point of this activity is to promote a wholesome bond between members, and I'm hoping all of you will cooperate."

A murmur was rippling through the class and people turned to look at each other, as though sizing up who they would be most comfortable introducing themselves to. Ella herself cast her seatmates speculative glances and found that they were doing the same. Upon meeting her gaze, however, they quickly looked a way and she stifled a pang of disappointment and proceeded to smile anyway.

"Come on, everyone!" Mari said impatiently, giving them exasperated looks. "Introduce yourselves already!"

**Further Notes:** There was a phrase I placed in the chapter where Ella quoted a saying in her own language. I'm going to translate it here. In English, "_Kanya-kanyang trip_" means, "To each his own tastes and preferences." Just in case you were wondering. ;D Please read and review. ;D


	3. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** Same as in every chapter. ;D

**Author's Note:** I'd just like to thank everyone who's reviewed the prologue and the first chapter. Those reviews meant a lot. ;D

_Calliope_: Thanks! It was something that I was expecting to happen sometime in the sequel of Slam Dunk (which I'm still desperately praying for ;D ) but since it hasn't come yet I decided to include it in the story. ;D

_KoinoTenshi_: Thanks for the review! ;D I'm glad you like what I wrote because I'm a big fan of your own fic. ;D In any case, I was pondering over what to do with Ella's currently nondescript status and I'm going to try to fix it in this chapter. Let me know if I go a tad bit overboard on the details, though. ;D

Without further delay, here's the update. ;D

Chapter 2

Ayako stood up just as almost everybody else did and the sound of scraping chairs echoed throughout the hall. Her eyes flitted about the crowd, searching for some lone figure looking down at his or her shoes, just longing to be spoken to. Unfortunately, all those people seemed to be taken or simply not present at this time, and so she soon felt like being the bashful one. Several minutes passed as she began to move around a bit, her eyes desperately seeking a partner. And just as shoe-shuffling seemed tempting—

_Bingo_.

Her eyes lit up as she spotted the only person in the room who wasn't being approached yet. Her feet carried her towards her target immediately, though as she approached it became clear as to why nobody had introduced themselves to the girl who was had remained seated in her chair.

She was obviously different from everyone else in the room. Not just in her appearance but the vibe that hit Ayako as she neared _screamed_ "different" in each and every direction.

Her posture wasn't natural, but it wasn't tense per se. Her long legs were extended in front of her in a very relaxed position though her back was as stiff and straight as a poker. It wasn't obvious since she inclined herself against her backrest slightly, but the way her shoulders and chest were positioned gave it away. Her fingers weren't drumming on the table in a sign of impatience or restlessness. On the contrary, they rested serenely in front of her, propped comfortably on the smooth, polished wood of her table. The only clear sign of discomfort showed in how her eyes were focused coolly yet determinedly on her tabletop.

And what eyes they were!

Framed by long, thick lashes, the dark, stormy gray pools were something to look at. The textures and different planes of light hitting them made them appear intriguing, and matched against her serious, unwelcoming features the overall effect was beautiful—but intimidating. It didn't help that she wasn't smiling.

"Eyeing the foreigner, are you?"

Ayako turned to see Mari standing slightly behind her, looking very much like herself. Despite the mild pang of discomfort and dislike Ayako felt being in Mari's company, she nodded, smiling slightly.

"She seems very interesting," she admitted. Pausing, she gave the girl a good look and frowned slightly, trying to identify her features. "Where is she from?"

"The Philippines, according to Miss Kawazaki," Mari replied dismissively. "Small country to the south."

Ayako smiled inwardly. If she recalled correctly, the Philippines had 7,107 islands. "Small" wasn't exactly the word she'd use.

"Then she'll be a perfect partner," Ayako said brightly, anxious to get away before someone else approached the girl. "The Filipinos speak English very well. That's a very good thing for the club. She'll probably become a very important member."

Mari's eyes narrowed as she understood what Ayako meant. Taking the jab at her ego, she gave the foreigner a haughty, condescending look before she turned and walked away.

Glad to be rid of her, Ayako turned and let out a breath of relief when she saw that the girl was still sitting alone. Gathering her wits about her she took a deep breath and walked forward.

"Excuse me?" she asked tentatively, using her well-practiced and excellently delivered English. "Would you care to be my partner?"

Ella's eyes snapped up at the carefully intoned and recited questions, her surprise at actually being approached doubling as she stared blankly at the girl before her.

She was only slightly shorter than Ella, with long, curly dark hair and even prettier dark eyes. Her lips were full and a pale pink, their beauty enhancing and being enhanced by the sheer creaminess of her fair skin. She had a healthy, extremely well-proportioned figure, and an even healthier well-rounded vibe surrounding her.

"Huh?" she asked dumbly, regretting the question the second it popped into the air.

_Beautiful_, she thought grimly. _I've destroyed my social life on my first day here. "Dear Erica"_—she was already picturing herself writing in her mind—"_the people here are _so _judgmental! Say _one _stupid thing and you're exiled from all social circles forever!"_

"Would you care to be my partner?" the girl repeated, her eyes warming up instead of cooling the way Ella expected they would. Her smile deepened and she stepped closer.

_Note to self: Say a lot of stupid things from now on._

The way the girl spoke in English was so beautifully drawn out that the easy manner in which she'd spoken for years seemed coarse and unrefined in comparison. The intonations were enchantingly Oriental and the lack of distortions like slang and the other made-up terms brought by popular culture made English look like a whole new language to be explored.

"Of course," Ella replied, biting back the, "Sure, why not, babe?" she was so used to blurting out comfortably in the Philippines. She stood up quickly, smiling slightly and extending her hand to shake. "My name's Ella."

"Pretty name," the girl replied, shaking her hand firmly, her smile widening and flashing very nice teeth. "My name's Ayako."

"Thank you," Ella answered, acknowledging the compliment. "Your name's far more interesting, though. It's very nice to meet you."

_If Erica could see me now…_

Erica's lovely, wide eyes would probably turn into saucers. As in,  00 –if she could hear what Ella was saying.

_" 'Your name's far more interesting, though'!"_ she'd shriek before rolling on her back with laughter. "_Whatever happened to_, '_Yeah, I know. All the people back home dig it.' "_

"It's nice to meet you too," Ayako responded. She paused and looked Ella up and down without malice. "I heard you were from the Philippines, but you don't look like a Filipina at all."

"So I've heard. I'm not pure Filipino. There are some other genes thrown in there that I don't really bother to remember."

"Ah." She was still smiling, but Ella saw that she was pondering what to say next. Seeing the problem with their conversation, she immediately switched gears and went on the approach.

"So," she said, this time in Japanese, "care to tell me more about yourself?"

Ayako's eyes widened in delight. "So you _do_ speak Japanese!" She raised a brow and smacked Ella's arm lightly. "And here I was doing my best to make myself understood!"

"Trust me, you speak English very well. I was checking my own pronunciation when I was answering you. I felt that if I spoke the way I usually speak I'd be butchering the English language."

Ayako laughed at that. "You're not a very hard person to impress, in that case."

"Rarely. I'm very unimpressionable most of the time."

"Uh-huh. Then you must be thoroughly enamored by the Americans and people who speak English naturally."

She wrinkled her nose. "No—not really. I'm one of those people. When it's natural it isn't as carefully used—not often, in any case. It comes so easily that there's no art in saying what you have to say most of the time. When you're set on perfecting your sentences before they come out the delivery has much more…impact. It's like what you're saying is very much thought-out and the person hearing what you're saying will feel that slight difference."

Ayako smiled. "You're a very interesting person to talk to, Ella," she commented, but inside she acceded. Now that Ella was speaking Japanese, Ayako _did_ understand what she meant. There was much more care in pronunciation and intonations and the indicative way she delivered what she said with excellent diction was refreshing to see.

Moments later she burst out laughing.

"What?" Ella asked, staring at her strangely.

"I _can't_ believe we're having a discussion about how we talk to each other," Ayako said, shaking her head. "Can't we talk about anything else? It's like we're down to talking about how we say things and we're analyzing why they come out that way."

Ella tilted her head to the side, seeing her point.

"You're right," she agreed, grinning. "So why don't we go back to my question? Would you care to tell me more about yourself?"

"I don't get it," Ryota said, checking his watch again. "It isn't like Ayako to be an hour late."

"Maybe she got bombarded with stuff to do," Yasuda suggested, shifting his bag slightly. "I heard that Mari is the president of the English Club. She's probably hounding Ayako as we speak."

"I doubt it," Ryota dismissed worriedly. "If it were Mari, Ayako would've told her to buzz off by now."

"Good point."

Silence fell between them for several minutes as both minds drifted in different directions. And then—like a puppy sensing its master—Ryota's head flew up and his eyes widened adoringly.

"Ayako-chan!" he almost screeched.

But Ayako wasn't looking at him. She was deeply immersed in a conversation with a girl none of them had ever seen before.

"Ayako!" Ryota said, waving at her and raising the volume of his voice. "Ayako!"

When she finally looked up she was distracted and almost impatient. But her eyes focused on him and in a moment they warmed, her bright smile flashing stars into Ryota's eyes.

"Is he your boyfriend, Ayako?" the girl beside her asked bluntly, breaking the intimate moment.

Ryota felt a stab of annoyance as he focused his eyes on the rude girl, but that melted away as he got a good look at her.

And saw the approval in her eyes.

"He doesn't seem like much, does he?" Ayako said fondly, her eyes warming even more as she tilted her head to the side.

"On the contrary," the girl said as a big smile flashed out and enlivened her serious, grim features, "he seems to be quite a lot." She extended her hand. "Ella."

"Ryota," he returned, smiling widely at her and shaking her hand firmly. "And this is my friend, Yasuda."

She shook hands with Yasuda and let them both know that she was pleased to meet them. The thing was: her eyes showed she meant it.

"Ayako's told me a lot about the basketball team," she said, peering at the gym wistfully. "I can imagine what you're all going through what with the season starting and all."

"We've got a lot of problems, yes," Ryota agreed, "but we manage very well. There are many things we've got to do before the start of the Inter High. We've got to work on the new team and break it in. Some key members have already graduated and we're at a deep loss."

"So I've heard. Ayako was telling me about them and I understand the feeling. More so the manager work she does."

Ryota grinned. "I didn't know you minded the work we gave you," he shot at his girlfriend.

Ayako blushed, folding her arms and looking away. "I never said I did," she snipped shortly.

"In any case, you've got an assistant now." Ryota turned back to Ella. "She's the younger sister of our former captain. She's very committed to the team."

"For more than one reason," Ayako said with an amused smile. She paused and spotted someone behind Ryota. "Here comes one of them."


	4. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:** Hasn't changed. ;D

**Author's Note:** Again, I'm very grateful for the reviews. ;D They really mean a lot. ;D

_Calliope_: ;D Mari's a pseudo-villain here or in other words a villain by degrees. She doesn't really touch the plot as much a big villain would, but yes, she and the other characters won't get along. ;D Her manner (especially in terms of Ella's nationality) will definitely have her popping up here and there. ;D I'm glad you liked it. ;D Your work inspired me to mix more nationalistic elements into this story. ;D

_KoinoTenshi_: Thankiesh! ;D Your review is indeed very good to read and I'll strive to make the coming chapters worthy of further reading in return. ;D There's some activity in this chapter that I hope you and the other readers will find interesting. ;D

Here it is… ;D

Chapter 3

Not quite sure about what Ayako meant, Ella looked over Ryota's shoulder.

And felt her heart skip a beat.

Walking towards them was one of the most excellent specimens of the male species that she had ever laid eyes on. She swallowed audibly as she took in his features in a flash before meeting the cool blue eyes that now focused pointedly on her.

He stared her down for one long second…before looking away dismissively. He brushed right past her and she felt the icy, unwelcoming aura around him pierce her skin just as the sleeve of his uniform breezed over her arm. Despite the fact that he had barely touched her (she considered clothing contact as touching) she stepped back as though she had been bumped and she felt an immediate dislike for him spring up.

Her mouth fell open slightly and she quickly erased/crossed-out/got rid of the "God's Gift To Women" label she had placed on him in her mind.

"His name is Kaede Rukawa," Ayako said in an undertone. "One of the great players who have remained on our team. He's being trained for the All-Japan Team, you know."

"And he's one of the many reasons why your assistant is so…committed to the team?" Ella asked, regretting the mocking tone in her voice instantly.

Thankfully, Ayako found it amusing and she laughed, grinning at Ella.

"Can you blame her?" she asked incredulously.

Despite how he'd looked at her earlier, Ella shook her head—albeit begrudgingly.

"No," she replied honestly. "He _is_ something to look at."

"I'd tag that as an understatement, but then maybe he just isn't your type."

"And he's yours?" Ryota demanded, casting a dirty look over his shoulder at Rukawa.

"What do you think?" Ayako asked, throwing an arm around her boyfriend's neck.

He blushed furiously and grinned sheepishly at her, shuffling his feet. Ayako gave him a quick peck on the cheek that Ella was certain made his insides kick before she turned back to Ella.

"Where are you off to after this?" she inquired. "Practice is over for today and Ryota and I were planning to catch a movie."

Despite the fact that she was certain she adored Ayako (and was adored in return) she knew her bounds and she shook her head.

"No," she said, truly regretful at the loss of bonding time with her new friend. "I've got to catch up on unpacking all my stuff. My foster parents are probably going wild as we speak."

"Akira-kun!"

One dreamy blue eye opened drowsily before closing again, one hand coming up to shade it from the heavy stream of bright afternoon sunlight. Turning on his side the tall young man threw his arm over his head and groaned when something poked him in the side.

"Akira," his mother scolded, pushing the broom handle further into her son's side. "Mrs. Kano is calling for you. Why don't you respond?"

"Because I'm sleeping," he replied pleadingly. "Please, Mom, can't you just tell her that?"

"No," she replied, but her voice lightened with amusement. "Come on, you lazy boy. If you're going to stay home today you'll have to pull your weight around here."

"I'm _supposed_ to have a cold."

"Oh, do you want me to fetch the cold water and make that a reality?"

Sighing deeply Sendoh pulled himself up. "Mothers these days," he said regretfully. "They don't make them like they used to."

Laughing, she hit him playfully on the head with the broom.

"Come on," she prodded. "Get going now."

"_Okay_, Mom," he said dusting his hair off and pulling out one of the broom hairs that had managed to entangle itself in his spiky locks.

Mr. and Mrs. Kano had been their neighbors for more than the eighteen years of his life. He'd known and grown up with their three children and had been treated like a son himself. In fact, Mr. and Mrs. Kano treated his parents like their children and they had always looked to them for help and advice. Now that their three children were away at university, the elderly couple had all the more spoiled him.

Until recently.

For the past month, the two little old people were raising hell in their comfortable traditional Japanese home. Mrs. Kano was buying several cleaning utensils at a time while Mr. Kano was attacking the yard and gardens as though his life depended on it. Sendoh was getting used to seeing large bundles of overused rags and empty disinfectant bottles in the trash each time he dropped off their own garbage in the morning. He was also adjusting to the fact that whenever they called him over it was to do some particular chore for them—from getting rid of the yard cuttings and fixing the fountain to replacing the screens and tatami mats inside the house.

_What is it this time_? he asked himself, dreading the extra-cheerful note in Mrs. Kano's voice when she called for him again.

"I'm here, Mrs. Kano," he called as he clambered up the seven-foot stone wall that divided their homes.

"Ah, Akira-kun!" the small old lady exclaimed delightedly. "There you are!"

Despite his chagrin as the prospect of the task she was infinitely going to ask him to do loomed over him, he felt himself smile at her genuinely happy-to-see-you greeting.

"I'm not exactly very easy to miss, Mrs. Kano," he said lightly, approaching her.

"What?" she asked distractedly. "I'm sorry, but I can't think straight right now."

"What's the problem?" Sendoh asked, worry creasing his brow at the old lady's distress.

"You do remember the exchange student we've decided to take in, right?" she asked, not bothering to wait for his reply. "She's loaded her things into her room but hasn't been able to unpack completely because she went to school at once today. I was going to surprise her by placing everything in order for her but then everything's piled over everything else and I just _can't_ do this alone."

Sendoh groaned inwardly.

"Where do we start?" he asked, already wishing he'd gone to school.

"Mrs. Kano, I'm home!"

Ella hastily stepped off the freshly-polished floor and slipped her shoes off at the main entrance to the house, still getting used to the Japanese custom of doing so. She craned her neck over from left to right, trying to spot the incredibly kind old lady who (along with her equally kind husband) had agreed to take her in for her six-week stay.

"Mrs. Kano!" she called again, taking into consideration that Mrs. Kano's hearing might not be as good as it used to be now that she was getting along in years. Ella slipped off her socks as well, deciding not to risk another bruise on her tender backside. Mrs. Kano probably couldn't hear as well, but she _did_ know how to polish floors.

Feet firmly anchored, she got up and began walking around the house.

"Mrs. Kano! I'm back from school! Do you need help with dinner?"

When there was still no reply she paused and frowned, walking back to the main entrance. Peering at the space around where she'd dumped her shoes she smiled exasperatedly at her stupidity and slapped the flat of her palm against her forehead.

_You dummy_, she thought, seeing the absence of Mrs. Kano's delicate little slippers. _She's probably still out getting dinner_.

Just as she was about to move, however, her ears caught on a sound that made her blood run cold.

Was that a thud she'd just heard?

Several long seconds passed as she stood stock-still, her limbs tensing as she prepared to make a run for it. Images from movies like _The Grudge_ and _Bahay ni Lola_ popped into her mind and it seemed that the warm, comfortable air around her had become sinister and thick with foreboding. She barely dared to breathe as she anguished at desperately wanting to run but being too afraid to move and do so.

_What if it pounces at me when I move?_ she thought wildly. _Like in those horror films they make back home_...

_Stop it!_ another part of her mind screamed at her. _Nothing is going to attack you, you dumb ass! It's just your imagination playing tricks on you again!_

At this she paused, remembering when she'd fallen twenty feet during an early morning hike in the Cordilleras. It had been before dawn and there hadn't been a star in the sky. She'd thought she'd seen a ghoul crouching behind the tall grass to her left and in her state of catatonic terror she hadn't noticed the ground giving way beneath the edge.

_Right_, she thought grimly, straightening up as she remembered the injuries she'd gotten from _that_ little indulgence of her imagination. _Can't have _that_ ever happening again_.

Just as she was about to move from the spot, the pain in her limbs after the tense strain becoming evident when she relaxed, she heard it again.

The dull thud was more solid now, and she swallowed hard, her heart beginning to race. When the sound was followed by a man's steady stream of cursing she was certain that she wasn't alone in the house.

She considered her options.

If she ran for help, there was a big chance that when she got back with whoever would be with her (considering the fact that she didn't know anybody else in the neighborhood yet) the person inside the house would have already left. She was certain it wasn't Mr. Kano—the voice was far too solid and deep to be the cracked, whispery thing she heard whenever she spoke with her foster father.

But if she stayed…she swallowed hard again.

He was probably a thief.

And when she thought of the kind of person who would sneak into a kind old couple's home she felt a stab of anger that tipped her towards her decision.

Keeping her steps light she followed the sounds that she heard much more clearly now that all of her senses were at a cat's level. Her heart seemed to be making too much noise and at every squeak or scrunch produced by her feet against the tatami she winced.

The noises were coming from the back portions of the house—sure signs that the intruder was rifling through the couple's personal belongings. Feeling her anger build up as she pictured the scumbag in the room, ransacking Mrs. Kano's precious mementos, she edged towards the kitchen, her breath held and her nerves as sensitive as collapsible bomb circuits.

Thankfully the slide to the kitchen was already open. The lousy bastard had probably fed himself off the Kanos' food as well. She tiptoed in and walked over to the cupboard, deliberating over what to do. Mrs. Kano always kept the knives in the drawer, and although Ella was sure she'd be much more comfortable with the big butcher's knife in hand, she was familiar with the kitchen enough to know that the drawer often stuck and made a lot of noise during opening. She scanned the counter and inspiration struck the moment her eyes alighted on Mrs. Kano's favorite frying pan.

_Bingo_.

Although to her own mind bludgeoning someone made a lot more mess than stabbing or severing she picked up the frying pan grimly. She knew that from the kitchen she could move out of the house and go around, entering the couple's room from where it faced the gardens and the backyard. He wouldn't be expecting her from there and she'd be blocking off the easier exit.

_Get ready, you son of a bitch_, she thought as the open slide door came into view. _You'd better start praying for mercy._

Sendoh looked up from the evil box of horrors he had been brave enough to peek into, frowning when he thought he heard something. Britney's latest single was just hitting the chorus, however, and he simply shook his head and continued his dissection of the mysteries from the abyss.

**Further Notes:** While I'm certain you're all familiar with the original version of _The Grudge_, _Bahay ni Lola _ is one film that really gave me the creeps. Asian horror movies give me more chills somehow. ;D


	5. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer:** Do I need to repeat this?

**Author's Note:** My gratitude for your reviews (and the time you take to read and make them) grows as I read your insightful words and comments. I really do appreciate them, so keep them coming. ;D

_Calliope_: I found _The Grudge_ to be really quite eerie and _Bahay ni Lola_ more so because it's closer to home and I've heard many stories of similar happenings. o.o In any case, I inserted the _Bahay ni Lola_ thing because I thought it would be funny (and you've confirmed it—thanks! ;D ). Yup…Sendoh's her neighbor, technically. ;D Will she end up with any guy from SD…well…we'll have to see. ;D

_MistressKC_: Thanks! ;D How long have you been away from the Phil? ;D

And now, without further ado, we move on to the next chapter. ;D

Chapter 4

_Damn, he's tall! _Ella thought in panicked surprise, taking a step back as she finally laid eyes on the intruder.

Crouching down before a large cardboard box he was rifling through the items within with painstaking care, the headphones covering his ears blaring _Do Somethin_' so loud that even _she_ could hear it from where she stood.

"What the hell…?" he asked in horrified disgust mixed with strange curiosity as he held up a painfully bright fuchsia pink and baby-pink spotted piece of clothing.

Ella's eyes rounded out into saucers, their pretty almond shape rivaling Erica's doe-eyed pair as she realized what he was holding up.

"Underwear!" the young man exclaimed in disgust, dropping the female boxers as though they'd burned him.

_That sick son of a bitch!_ she screamed in her head when her eyes trailed the large pile of her things towards the dividing slide between her room and her foster parents' room.

Her toiletries were everywhere. Her tampons and pads were over in what seemed to be a rubbish pile in the corner, accompanied by her feminine wash and several other items of lingerie. Her precious notebooks were thrown carelessly aside as he dug through the box, unearthing the most personal of her belongings and treating them with the worst kind of disrespect. Treasured romance books went flying alongside bikinis and gingerly-touched brassieres and panties.

When he picked up her diary and flipped it open, his eyes immediately falling on the little note she had taped to the front, she felt murder descend upon her eyes.

_I'm going to kill you_, she thought maniacally, sneaking up on him and slowly raising the frying pan to make the fatal blow.

_"Thanks so much for the lovely date, _ading_." _

Sendoh paused, frowning at the last word. He read it again, more carefully this time, making sure he didn't mix up the letters or the meanings of the words.

_What the hell does "ading" mean? _

Deciding he didn't care, he flipped the page, wrinkling his nose at the long, flowing script that was so unlike the precise Japanese characters he was accustomed to. He shut the book then, knowing that it was a waste of time to pore over reading material like that. Especially when it wasn't his. Judging from what he'd read on the front of the book it contained very personal material. Interested though he would have been, however, he had other things to do.

Mrs. Kano had gone to get dinner and meet friends, tasking him with sorting out the foreign exchange student's messy, agonizingly disorganized belongings, and arranging them in her new room. He had spent the past four hours pushing furniture around the room and placing her belongings in proper order. He had even pressed the terrible girl's crumpled, stuffed-into-the-bag clothing and had laid them out in her dresser in a manner that would have rivaled a trained helper's.

Now he had only three more boxes to go.

_Who the hell places underwear and notebooks in the same bag! _he demanded, picking up a lacy red brassiere and tossing it aside.

He felt like a pervert in a lingerie shop, and when he thought of the breasts that must fill up the cups of the bra he had just discarded a hot flush crept up into his cheeks.

_Disgusting_, he thought, shaking his head. _Being around women's belongings can be degrading for a man's integrity._

He glanced at the bra again.

_Well…nobody's around…_

He moved quickly to the side, picking up the delicate forbidden artifact, his mind quickly making measurements.

_Too big to be a Cup B…36 Cup A? _

_"You make me sick…"_

The last lines of Pink's song shot straight into his upbringing and he dropped the bra, glowing in a shade of red close to its color. Swallowing hard, he shook himself mentally and decided that he couldn't go any further than he already had. Mrs. Kano would just have to understand that it wasn't appropriate for young men (hormones and all) to be rifling through the belongings of the opposite sex.

The damn CD was skipping again. He tapped at the player irritably, shaken from his last hormone rush and wanting to be out of the house as soon as possible. It was getting too damned hot inside the little room.

He turned to get out.

A quick, swishing sound whipped through the air into his ears as his eyes focused on a rapidly expanding black object that exploded into large, blinding stars, sending pain rocketing straight through his forehead.

**Further Notes: **"_Ading_" in the Philippines is used to refer to someone who is younger than you, generally, though there are cases wherein the term applies to someone who is simply on a lower level than yourself (for instance, my school. ;D ).


	6. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer:** I claim them all, hahaha! Kidding... :D It's tempting, since nobody really reads this part, but why risk it?

**Author's Note:** Sorry I didn't update at once! I was caught up with entering college and doing a whole bunch of other stuff that relegated Sendoh to a backseat. Hope you haven't lost interest!

_Calliope_: He's a naughty boy, isn't he! Hehe:P ;D ;P ;D Yeah, I like to think of him as open to all sorts of things, even Britney. :D Mrs. Kano, bless her, wasn't thinking actually. It doesn't affect the state of the dinner she's planning for Ella. :D Sendoh could be a girl for all she cares. :D

Chapter 5

_Whoa_, Ella thought with more than a touch of surprise. _I didn't expect him to go down so quickly. _

She had been gearing up for a second satisfying smash of the frying pan, but apparently one was enough. The perverted thief was lying flat on his back, a bloody bruise on his forehead and his eyes shut tight. He looked almost pitiful, his chiseled features fixed into a grimace of pain and surprise, but when she recalled the image of him holding up her unmentionables she walked resolutely over to the cordless phone settled on top of a small collapsible desk.

The pleasant note that indicated that the line was ringing on the other end was already filling her ear before she paused. She was sitting on an office chair, cordless held to her ear with her left hand and frying pan firmly in her right. She had swiveled to face the unconscious intruder, but as her gaze settled on the blood on his forehead an unsettling thought swirled in the back of her head.

When she had left her room that morning, it had been to the dampening thought of coming home and having to unpack. Mr. Kano would set up some things she might need or call in someone else to do it for him. She had been thinking to arrange all of her things herself, as well as set up the things she was certain Mr. Kano wasn't familiar with. Like her laptop and printer. Which were not only set up, but meticulously arranged at that. There wasn't a single tangle in her speaker and printer wires. She slid her gaze over the room, to the wardrobe that had materialized at one end of the room. Mr. Kano couldn't have moved _that_ in by himself.

She swallowed hard.

"Police station, how may I help you?"

Ella hung up and set the phone down with a shaking hand.

_Oh my God._

He started, rearing up and cursing savagely as agony exploded into the blissful limbo of unconsciousness. His eyes snapped open for an instant to register a girl on her bottom beside him, her hands thrown back to keep her from falling on her back. Something blue was in one of her hands. It occurred to him that he must have dislodged her in some way before he was blinded by another shot of pain and he clenched his jaw so tightly he actually felt a crunch.

"Please," a terrified whisper edged into his strained thoughts. "Don't move so much."

Ella had been shocked by the fury burning in his eyes when she'd placed the compress onto his forehead. She told herself it was a good thing he had woken up. Yes, he'd knocked her onto her butt, but that was better than him staying supine. It was a good thing he was angry. At least he wasn't looking up at her weakly, struggling feebly to get, "Tell my mother..." across.

She shook her head to clear her thoughts, swallowing for what seemed to be the hundredth time that afternoon. She should have called the hospital knowing how hard she hit him, but...

_Selfish_, she thought with disgust and anger. _You might as well spare the poor guy a concussion. You're getting sent home anyway. There's no way they'll want to keep you for six weeks after _this. _Besides, you should want to get away. What do you think he'll do to you once he's well? Nobody takes a frying pan lightly, Ella, especially not to the head._

Sendoh licked his lips. They felt cracked and his dry tongue seemed to scrape them even more. Breathing deeply to keep from screaming and occupying himself determinedly in keeping still, he asked in a soft, gentle voice, "What's wrong with my head?"

At his calm, soothing tone she almost burst into tears. His fingers were twitching and she knew he was in a lot of pain, but that he was trying to comfort _her_...

"There's a huge bruise and the skin split so there's a gash too," she said honestly, bracing for whatever was to come. "I—I hit you very hard."

His lashes lifted just a fraction to reveal a slit of soft, dreamy blue. "Why?"

There wasn't any condemnation in it—or in his eyes—but she winced as though he'd struck her.

"I thought you were a thief. You were going through my—things."

Recollection flickered dimly at the edges of his thoughts, but with the pain gnawing at his brain he could not quite grasp it, save for a single thread.

"You're the exchange student," he concluded.

"For now, yes." Ella glanced at the cordless phone she'd left on the desk. _But for how much longer?_

His lashes met and one side of his mouth quirked.

"You didn't need to hit me, you know. I wouldn't have told anyone you have a fuchsia bra."

Before she could tell him he didn't need to worry because she'd be gone, he went slack.


	7. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer:** I disclaim. There.

**Author's Note:** I'm inspired, so before I run out of creative brainpower and get back to talking about genomes and GMOs, here's the update. :D

_PrussianBlue Cross_: Thank you for the review! Rukawa and Ella...well. They might. :D

Chapter 6

"And _how_ blue _were_ his eyes again?"

Ella grit her teeth to keep from screaming. She had called Erica up so that she could attain a false sense of security, _not_ so they could fantasize about the guy she'd just coshed on the head. She was alone in her room and it was well past nine o'clock. The whole house was quiet—Mr. and Mrs. Kano had gone to the hospital with Mr. and Mrs. Sendoh. Ella had faced both couples three hours before and while everyone had been horrified beyond words, she had overheard a shaking Mrs. Sendoh cry, "I will _never_..." before Mrs. Kano had sent her inside.

Never forget this? Never forgive her?

Wearily she lay back on the futon she had dragged into the room. Akira Sendoh—the poor guy she'd mauled—was supposed to bring in it last, when all her stuff was put away and everything else set up in the proper places. If he was very lucky, he'd be able to lug things around again in two weeks or so without experiencing a very sharp pain in his head. If _she_ was very lucky, he wouldn't press charges.

"Blue," she said dully, wondering how many times Erica would press her for a head-to-toe description once she got home.

"Oh, come _on_, there has to be more than that!" Erica exclaimed exasperatedly. "Honestly, Ella, you suck sometimes. Can't you give me something like, 'Oh, blue like the mouse pad in your Dad's office'."

Ella snorted. "Right. I'll write that down. 'Blue like'—oh—hang on."

She pressed a hand over the receiver to drown out Erica's laughter and lifted her head. The noisy, probably belching engine was Mr. Kano's worn-out old Toyota. The smooth purr of the engine that died moments after Mr. Kano's could only be the neighbors' classic Cefiro.

"I'll call you before my flight," she said glumly, steeling herself. "The lions are here."

"Okay, but make sure to get a picture of the guy, okay? Send it to me, if you can!"

"Right. Sure. With or without his lump?"

When Erica actually seemed to ponder the question she hung up, pulling herself to her feet just as the screen door slid open and her foster parents stepped into the room.

"Have you been up all this time?" Mrs. Kano asked worriedly, though Ella didn't see it through her nerves.

"Yes," she said nervously, feeling sweat beading in her palms and she rigidly refused to wipe them on her pants.

"Why didn't you eat dinner?" Mr. Kano asked, looking at her curiously. "Misane was planning to cook it for you, of course, but with what happened to poor Akira—"

"I'm sorry," she burst out, unable to keep her hands still except by holding them together tight behind her back. She stared down at her pedicure. "I'm really sorry. If you want to send me home I'll understand."

"Now, now, don't upset yourself," Mrs. Kano said soothingly, casting a look at the futon that had been haphazardly dumped in the center of the room. Making a mental note to make Sendoh-san come over and fix that tomorrow—Akira needed rest, of course—she took the girl's arm. "We can't send you back now, and we wouldn't even if we could. It's not your fault. I should have let you know that I was going to let Akira do your unpacking for you."

Ella couldn't quite suppress her horror. "But he's a _boy_," she breathed, mentally slapping herself on the forehead for how dumb she sounded.

"Yes, he is, isn't he?" Mrs. Kano murmured, as though realizing it for the first time. "I suppose I should have just let him move the furniture, but I knew you'd be exhausted from school. How was your first day, by the way?"

"Wonderful," Ella said automatically, realizing just a bit later that she meant it. She had left the house a newbie in Japanese society and had arrived back with her tally listing one new friend. Her happiness lasted only a moment though—recalling her actions when she got home, she was certain she was also officially a disaster in society now.

"Did you make any new friends?" Mr. Kano inquired, leading the two ladies from the room and making his way to the kitchen.

"One," she said, feeling a weak spurt of happiness at the thought that she was going to see Ayako again after all.

"Good, good," he said absently, already digging in the refrigerator. "Misane, are you still up to making us that dinner, or do I order take-out?"

Fifteen minutes later Ella was cleaning fish with Mrs. Kano while Mr. Kano sat reading a worn copy of _Time_. When the couple did not immediately tell her about what had happened at the hospital, she felt a beat of tension make its way back into her chest.

"Akira-kun...he's all right, isn't he?" she asked hesitantly, watching Mrs. Kano's profile intently.

"His skull was nearly cracked, the poor boy," Mrs. Kano said with a sigh.

A spasm jolted her into making a gash into her left thumb and she hissed, the knife and fish clattering and splattering the counter. Mrs. Kano clucked her tongue disapprovingly and put her work down, dragging Ella towards the sink.

"Always _look_ at what you're doing, dear," she scolded, running the tap water over Ella's bleeding thumb.

"What's going to happen to him?" she asked, much to worried to care if Mrs. Kano decided she'd pour vinegar over the wound.

"Nothing," Mrs. Kano said impatiently, peering her weak eyes at the wound with ferocity. "It doesn't _look_ deep..."

"He's all right then?"

"Yes, yes, now keep still." She pressed the skin around the wound down firmly until no more blood oozed out. "Akira-kun will be all right. He'll have a nasty bruise and a bad headache for a few more days, but he'll be fine."

"He ah...he...er...did he say anything about me?"

Mrs. Kano smiled at her knowingly, delight dancing in her dark eyes. "He's very handsome, isn't he?"

Ella blinked and then burst out laughing at the old lady's misinterpretation.

"Yes, but that wasn't what I meant!" Her smile faded and she continued soberly. "He's not—he's not pressing charges, is he?"

"Akira-kun?" Mrs. Kano looked genuinely shocked. "Of course not! Goodness! If he pressed charges for every time he got hurt when he was in this house, why—I used to whip him all the time because he was very naughty and he's never complained!"

"But never with a frying pan, dear," Mr. Kano said dampeningly.

"And a broom isn't as bad?" Shooting him an irritated glance, Mrs. Kano went on to reassure her fervently, understanding her distress. "He's a very nice boy, Ella. He understands why you hit him."

She felt much better, but there was more. "What about his parents?"

"What about them?" Mrs. Kano replied, closing the tap and guiding Ella back out into the hall, where one of the cabinets held a first-aid kit.

"They're not any angrier with me, are they?" She felt a sour taste in her mouth as she added, "Or with you?"

"What makes you think that they would be?" The old lady peeled the strips off the band-aid and wrapped it neatly around Ella's thumb, securing the wound.

"Well, before you all left...she—Mrs. Sendoh—was saying something about _never_ doing something again."

"Oh, that." Mrs. Kano actually cackled. "She said she would _never_ let Akira stay home again unless he was sick or dying. And she would never let him come over to do something if I left him alone in the house." She gave Ella a comforting pat. "It _was_ my fault, dear, but when you are winning a game of dice for the first time in three weeks..."

Ella felt so good and light-hearted she forgot to feel shocked at the fact that the crotchety old lady played dice.


End file.
